


Sunshine's like my Lover

by Nitzer



Category: N.Flying (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Implied drinking, M/M, Morning After, hints of 2seung at the end, literal sunshine kim jaehyun, very playful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:24:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitzer/pseuds/Nitzer
Summary: Jaehyun's as bright and warm as the literal sun, too bad Hun has a hangover.





	Sunshine's like my Lover

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "Sunshine" by Hoody and Crush

It wasn’t a super familiar experience, waking up on top of someone. It was still kind of new and exciting. I liked my space at the dorms and when I woke up with him it was usually on accident—both of us just passing out from exhaustion rather than a calculated move. This was, I guess, an accident too. There was another bed in our hotel room, pristine and untouched, just a few feet away from me. And we checked in with every intent of using both. It’s a concert and fansign in Thailand for fuck’s sake like it’s best if we all keep ourselves confined to separate beds. And we had _every_ intention of doing just that. We were even drinking with our _manager_ last night. It was just supposed to be some light winding down in the beauty of Thailand while we had the chance.

It just didn’t…end like that. Which is fine. Not ideal. But fine. I only drank slightly more than a reasonable amount once our manager left. And we stayed in our room so no one else saw us making a fool out of ourselves. And I’m pretty sure Jaehyun didn’t even make any annoying noise loud enough for our neighbors to hear. All in all, pretty good. Somehow the nice black-out blinds in our hotel room don’t get closed though and the sunlight filters in through the gauzy like “privacy” curtains straight into my brain. The hangover still isn’t even that bad. It’s nothing a painkiller and an extra shot of espresso in my Americano won’t fix.

It’s not bad—nice even—to wake up to the sweltering Thai sun with Jaehyun under me. Jaehyun always ends up under me when we share a bed. I wish it was some kind of “big spoon/little spoon” discussion but, honestly, this is just the most practical option. Jaehyun is sturdy and broad but still soft around the edges, perfect to sleep on. And I’m boney and light, small enough to lay on him with no discomfort. Jaehyun’s pretty when he sleeps too. Probably not prettier than when he’s awake but pretty in a way I rarely get to see or appreciate. His face is relaxed and without wrinkles, he’s probably handsome or chic or whatever hosts call him when he’s not smiling big to draw everyone’s eyes all the way back to the drum set.

It’s not a Jaehyun I really, really love. Probably not a Jaehyun I’d share a “morning after” with but maybe a Jaehyun I’d kiss at a party. He’s still got a thin gold chain wrapped around his neck which seems like a choking hazard but I guess neither of us planned on falling asleep in this state at all. I flip the charm on the chain over so it stops catching the sunlight and throwing it right back in my face and Jaehyun stirs. There’s no real reason for us to be up yet. So I stay still against him and just hope he’ll stay asleep. But instead his cool or chic face wrinkles up into something more familiar, more lovely and he stretches out on the bed. He groans and rolls around until his eyes rest on me. “Morning.” He murmurs, his voice quiet and intimate in the still morning.

“Morning.” I respond. “We forgot to close the curtains last night.”

He smirks. “We forgot to do a lot.”

I twist my finger in the chain around his neck. “Yeah, you almost choked yourself with your fucking necklace.” I know what his stupid little smirk is all about though. Last night was the kind of heated, spontaneous explosion we were only allowed in hotels in foreign countries—totally unplanned passion. We really meant to just talk and joke around a little bit while we were loose-limbed and loose-lipped after our manager left. But then in the middle of some grand point—that was only made grander because everything Jaehyun did when he was drunk was the biggest and the _most_ —he leaned forward and his lips brushed my collarbone and it was just all over from there. It was just all lips and hands and shed clothes until I really stopped remembering and woke up to this.

“Guess I’m really lucky.” He smirks, his hand running up my side to cup my face.

“No.” I groan. “We have a fansign today, stop it.” I push his hand away and try to hide my face.

He shifts so I’m flat on the mattress and he’s half hovering over me, smile stretched wide over his ridiculously big mouth. “Oh, you don’t want any more?” He teases, his fingers skimming over my sides and making me squirm.

And his smile is _so_ bright. And he is _so_ much. It’s like having the sun shoved directly in my face. It’s like being able to reach out and hold the sun. It’s a blessing I can barely describe. It’s also a blessing to appreciate another time because I’m hungover still and the only thing Jaehyun’s sunny smile is doing is making my headache pound in time with my racing heartbeat.

I raise my pillow in defense and half-heartedly smother him with it. “Go back to sleep already so I can go back to appreciating your beauty again.” I grumble weakly.

He freezes beneath the pillow and for a second I worry that I’m really, actually smothering him instead of just playing around and I yank it away. But Jaehyun’s not flushed or choking or gasping for air or injured under the pillow. He’s still and stunned. His hands come up for mine, his dumb big mouth still hanging open and his eyebrows high on his forehead. “You think I’m beautiful?” He asks in a stunned whisper.

And that’s not what I intended to get across with my annoyed grumbling. I mostly wanted to say “it’s way too early for this shit, back off” but he _is_ beautiful. He’s almost inarguably more beautiful like this—sunny and stunned—than he was asleep. But I get where the awe comes from. Jaehyun has spent his whole life—since he was _eleven_ —slotted between Seunghyub with his handsome, actor face and literal former uzzlang Kwangjin. And even when we got a new a maknae, it was someone who was known for being just as cute as him. And Jaehyun could command a lot of attention, could be a lot of things, was _better_ at so many things than anyone else in the group. But he was always getting called interesting, charming, cute, handsome only at certain angles, when he was doing certain things. He was never, without qualifications, called _beautiful_. Maybe not even by me.

“Well…of course.” I cough out awkwardly. “You’re actually more beautiful now than when you were sleeping.” I force out because it’s _embarrassing_ , because all of my and Jaehyun’s affection was hidden in play fighting or lip-bruising kisses. But he asked and he deserves to hear it.

And the sun returns to his face like nothing ever happened. “You’re beautiful too.” He adds like an afterthought. “But you probably already knew that.” He laughs and bounces up off the bed towards the window.

I did know that, on some level, but it’s always different hearing it from Jaehyun. And I hope with the shades pulled closed finally, he won’t notice the pink tinting my cheeks.

He plops back down on the bed and stares at me. Like just… _staring_. It’s unnerving. I feel like I woke up with some horrid surprise I don’t even know about yet. Like maybe cat ears on my head or something. I’m finally unnerved enough to finally say something when he does instead.

“You’re really beautiful.” He repeats. “Pretty, handsome, stunning, whatever you prefer.” He waves off because it’s casual to him, because _of_ _course_ I already know.

“You had to stare that long just to figure that out?” I grumble because it’s embarrassing even in the dark.

“Nah, that was just for funsies.” He laughs. And it’s _too_ smooth, it’s _too_ unlike Jaehyun.

“What are you trying to get at?” I laugh with him, pushing him back into the bed playfully.

“Let me have a hot, tropical romance just this once.” He pouts, giving me his pathetic puppy dog eyes.

“This isn’t a _vacation_!” I yell but it’s undercut with both of our laughter. “We have a fansign tonight! You find the money and time to take me to Thailand and we can have a hot, tropical romance or whatever dumb shit you’re talking about.”

“Give me like five minutes of my fantasy.” He tries to negotiate.

“Two minutes.”

“I would’ve taken five _seconds_.” He laughs and when he kisses me his mouth is still stretched-out wide in a smile. And it’s more intimate, more endearing, than _hot_ but “sexy” was almost always a joke to Jaehyun anyway. He tastes stale and bitter but somehow warm still. He always feels warm, smells warm, tastes warm in a comforting way even in the dead of summer in Thailand.

He has one hand settled around my hip and the other cupping my face. It’s the same kind of soft, sweet and imploring way he kisses me back at the dorms. So the whole “hot, tropical romance” thing was total bullshit or his fantasies were unbelievably tame. It was so comfortable—so _right_ —kissing Jaehyun like this, though. I never fantasized about anything hotter or wilder with him. And I can so easily get lost in the dim light of the hotel room with the sun in my hands like this. It’s the first time that morning that he makes my heart beat harder than the pounding of my headache.

I hear the muted beep of the electronic lock before I hear our door crack open because there is no such thing as “privacy” or “alone time” between our members or our manager. “Hunnie,” Seunghyub calls too affectionately for my tastes, “I think I lost my headphones…” And in the silence as he trails off I _feel_ his eyes land on the pristine and unused bed across from us and then on us. And suddenly our tipsy, little accident has absolutely fucked us over because we all made the “separate beds” promise with our manager and with each other before we left Seoul. And we broke it.

“Hwesungie!” Seunghyub calls too loudly for the early morning down the hall. “All bets are off!”

I just glower at Jaehyun with him still perched over me, our faces close enough for him to feel the simmering heat of my anger. “This isn’t my fault!” He defends all whiny.

“It’s always your fault.” I jab my finger into his chest. “Now we’re gonna have to deal with those two for the rest of the fucking trip.”

“At least we got separate rooms this time.” He tries unsurely, smiling unconvincingly at me.

“When we ‘lose’ them before the fansign, _you_ have to check the closets this time.” I grumble, shoving my pillow back in his face.

“This isn’t my fault!” He whines again. But I’m not really mad. And I don’t really regret anything here. And I can already here Hweseung’s voice cheering and celebrating down the hall. And everything is already played out basically so might as well make Jaehyun squirm a little bit and just enjoy it.

**Author's Note:**

> i really never expected to show up and breathe life into the jaehun tag again but tbh there's already another one in the works  
> [tumblr](angelinmyheartt.tumblr.com) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/Nitzer)


End file.
